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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090586">The Witching Hour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveIdiot/pseuds/MauveIdiot'>MauveIdiot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avengers (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Friends to Lovers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow To Update, Timeline What Timeline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:07:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MauveIdiot/pseuds/MauveIdiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of connected one-shots in chronological(?) order. I will update this but probably not frequently.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wanda Maximoff &amp; Kurt Wagner, Wanda Maximoff/Kurt Wagner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Witching Hour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p>
  <strong>One: The Pentagram</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Wanda Maximoff</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The church was the oldest of its kind in New York, over a hundred years old and built in a beautiful Gothic Revival style, with pointed arches and four spires. In the dreary gray drizzle, with the edges of the city skyline blurred and ghostly, it almost took Wanda back in time to a land of horse-drawn carriages and hand-written love letters, chevaliers and superstition and magic, all of it exceptionally romantic, if you didn't mind being burned alive for witchcraft.</p>
<p>Normally Wanda wouldn't set foot in a Catholic church, but this part of the city had recently suffered a rash of strange disappearances. All children, all without the boundaries of a pentagram formed by five churches of various denominations, with this church at the epicenter of it all.</p>
<p>Wanda suspected the work of a demon.</p>
<p>She confidently pushed through the heavy double doors, droplets flinging off her long, scarlet cape as the doors thudded shut behind her with a reverberation that seemed to shake the building's very foundations. The chapel was dim but pleasantly warm, lit only by candles, the air tinged with the scents of melting wax and dust. How long had it been since she'd stood in a church of any reason that didn't involve demons, witchcraft, or the occult? She tried to remember, but couldn't conjure anything that wasn't a distant and faded memory. Billy was always trying to get her to go to synagogue with her but there was always some easy excuse, a prior engagement of world catastrophe, and their schedules never quite matched up.</p>
<p>Taking a step further into the dusty-smelling church she passed the font with its silver bowl of holy water, ignoring it, though as she crossed the threshold into the isle proper something fluttered against her hand.</p>
<p>A bloodred moth.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hm. That's odd.</em>
</p>
<p>Wanda moved to draw a hex in the air, a faint red line following the patterns her deft fingers spun. It was a simple spell of revelation, and when it finished she set her mouth in an expression of grim satisfaction. It was just as she'd expected...</p>
<p>"Hello?" The frail echo of a man's voice reached her ears as a black-clad figure stepped out of a doorway behind the altar. The priest froze when he saw Wanda sweeping down the isle in a sodden cloak and pointy headpiece. "Oh. Um. I heard you come in, child..."</p>
<p>"I am not a child, father, not one of your little lost sheep."</p>
<p>She gauged the pastor's expression; pale, sweaty, blinking rapidly. He certainly looked guilty, and he reeked of demoncraft (as her spell revealed), but the whole building reeked of demoncraft and she was a witch standing on (supposedly) holy ground. He was right to be afraid.</p>
<p>He shuffled closer, candelight making the sagging planes of his face look sallow and corspelike, his rheumy blue eyes sunken in. "I know who you are. You're here about our children," he said knowingly, head bowing. "All of our poor children, gone. The police say it's a new human trafficking ring..."</p>
<p>Wanda crossed her arms. "You don't believe that."</p>
<p>"It doesn't matter what I believe." The man shrugged. He seemed cagey to Wanda, and it made her even more suspicious. His gaze lifted to hers, then over her shoulder, his eyes widening in fright. "Merciful god!"</p>
<p>Wanda turned, following his gaze to where a man with dark blue fur and a spaded tail had just come in the doors and was now holding his damp hat in his hands, yellow eyes alighting on the tactless pastor and then Wanda.</p>
<p>"Mister Wagner." Wanda arched an eyebrow. "Fancy meeting you here."</p>
<p>"Well it is a Sunday, and I am a God fearing man, miss Maximoff. Are you here to investigate the disappearances as well?"</p>
<p>"I didn't know the X-Men did private investigative work."</p>
<p>"The X-Men don't."</p>
<p>Meanwhile the pastor was still spluttering, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "An X-Man? Y-you're on of <em>them!</em>"</p>
<p>Kurt turned to the man, eyes cool even as he flashed his fangs. "I would think, father, that you'd be relieved to know I'm not a <em>demon.</em>"</p>
<p>The pastor shook his head vehemently, crossing himself against evil. "It's people like you two coming in here, bringing your witchcraft and your - your monsters. I tried to be nice, because you're and Avenger and it's the godly thing to do, but I've had enough. Both of you must go. Now!"</p>
<hr/>
<p>The drizzle had become a deluge by the time the pair stepped outside, standing for a moment under the carved stone overhang protecting the doors.</p>
<p>Wanda blew a curl out of her face. "Bigoted imbecile."</p>
<p>Kurt shrugged like it was nothing, but his jaw was set. No matter how many times you had hatred hurled in your face you could never really get used to it. "I'm sorry I ruined your interview. Where were we...?"</p>
<p>"<em>You</em> didn't ruin anything." She crossed her arms to ward off the cold. "You were about to tell me about your investigation."</p>
<p>"Ah." He put his had back on; he was dressed for foul weather, in a gray fedora and long overcoat, which kept the rain off and probably helped him keep a low profile. "One of the parish members contacted me through an old friend. All the missing children attended this church at some point, so I thought perhaps someone was targeting the congregation, but it seems that you think the threat comes from within."</p>
<p>"I <em>know</em> the threat comes from within. That whole building was radiating chaos magic, <em>demonic</em> chaos magic."</p>
<p>"If you're certain the threat - the demon - is in there, why are we leaving?"</p>
<p>"Because I don't know that the demon is inside right now, only that there has been a demon in there recently, and because I would prefer the element of surprise."</p>
<p>His eyes narrowed. "And because the good father may be in league with said demon?"</p>
<p>"Precisely."</p>
<p>Her pause stretched into a moment of quiet, the only sound the drumming of rain on the dirty sidewalk. Wanda had planned to wait until nightfall, because the particular breed of demon she suspected was the culprit here hunted and fed at night, but Kurt showing up had thrown her off her rhythm.</p>
<p>Unlike her, he seemed perfectly at ease. "Where are you headed to next? There's a cafe not far from here. We could go there and wait out the storm, come back tonight."</p>
<p>Wanda considered, though she was feeling as prickly as a raven with its feathers ruffled. Though she'd been working with the Avengers again for over a year since her little...sabbatical, she'd also found that she liked working on her own, making her own calls, relying on herself - because she <em>could</em> rely on herself, despite what she or Pietro or anyone else sometimes thought.</p>
<p>But the demon she <em>was</em> dealing with was a tricky one...</p>
<p>And she <em>was</em> chilled by the rain...</p>
<p>"Alright, where's this cafe?"</p>
<p>"Closer than you might think." He grinned and offered her a three-fingered hand. "May I?"</p>
<p>"Oh, right, of course - " no sooner than she'd finished talking she found herself standing on the sodden sidewalk outside a small, dingy, but brightly lit cafe. Kurt opened the door for her and she stepped inside. Faded orange paint clung to walls that showed raw brick in places. A chain of naked light bulbs dangled from the ceiling. The scatted tables were half-filled with patrons nursing mugs of coffee and freshly-baked pastries that sent wisps of cinnamon-scented steam into the air.</p>
<p>They found a corner table with a good view out the windows and a moment later an apple-cheeked older woman in a floury apron bustled over, beaming like a grandmother.</p>
<p>"The usual?" she asked Kurt in a chiming voice.</p>
<p>"The usual," he confirmed. "How's Manny?"</p>
<p>"Complaining about the storm, says it won't stop for at least a week. I'm afraid he's never wrong about these things." She clicked her tongue before turning her attention to Wanda. "And for the lady?"</p>
<p>"Just coffee, thank you."</p>
<p>Wanda watched the woman bustle away behind the counter, taking in the details of the shop and its scattered patrons. At a table across from theirs two men held hands over a plate of biscuits and jam. At a corner table a woman with a metallic pink pixie cut and pointed ears read a fat paperback. A college study-group took up two tables crammed together, quietly noisy with their enormous textbooks and an ungodly army of half-drunk coffees. One girl had hands covered in thorns, and the boy sitting next to her seemed to shine like moonstone, and Wanda finally realized why he'd brought her to this tiny, shabby little cafe in particular: it was mutant-friendly.</p>
<p>She wondered if the proprietors were mutants, or simply decent.</p>
<p>"You should have ordered the croissants," said Kurt, leaning back in his chair. He'd taken his hat off again and his blue-black hair was curled and damp, his yellow eyes as bright as the heart of a flame. "They're delicious."</p>
<p>"I'm sure they are." Wanda rearranged the way her cape draped over her chair, considering using a small spell to dry it out. "But I prefer <em>not</em> fighting on a full stomach."</p>
<p>"It does make being kicked or punched in the stomach that much worse," he agreed, "but I would hate to risk dying on an empty stomach, and like I said, the croissants are delicious. Heavenly, even." He seemed to think that was funny.</p>
<p>Wanda was considering the likelihood of dying tonight when the cheerful waitress (proprietress? baker?) returned with two steaming cups of coffee in round yellow mugs and a plate of buttery golden croissants, which<em> did</em> smell divine.</p>
<p>"Danke," Kurt said when she set the plate down, his face lighting up. It seemed to Wanda that he was taking the prospect of fighting demons rather lightly. He broke a croissant in half and offered her part, but she shook her head. She was feeling a little ill already and they still had two hours to wait before returning to the church. Ending this.</p>
<p>She hadn't let herself think about it too much before, but this...the demon...the missing children...it hit rather close to her heart.</p>
<p>"Wanda? Is something wrong?" Kurt had already polished off the croissants and now regarded her. Her coffee sat untouched, and she realized that she'd been spacing out for a good quarter hour. She didn't really feel like pretending any of this was alright, because it wasn't, but she also didn't feel like talking about all the ways this was completely horrible.</p>
<p>She folded her arms on the tabletop, shivering despite the warmth of the cafe. "I just don't know how you can sit there and eat croissants and chat with the waitress when the lives of children are - " <em>lost, they're all lost</em> - "on the line."</p>
<p>"Of course the disappearances of children is not something to make light of." His gaze was intent and serious. "But I choose to believe that we can still save them."</p>
<p>Okay, maybe he was being more optimistic than lighthearted, and he wasn't one to brook like she was doing right now.</p>
<p>"They may have been eaten by a <em>demon</em>. Or met any number of worse fates."</p>
<p>"I know." His eyes darkened. "I have dealt with demons before, Fraulein."</p>
<p>Wanda pursed her lips. She wasn't angry with him, of course, only with the situation and the thought of not being able to bring all those children home to their parents. She shook her head slightly, trying to think of something else - anything else - but once she started thinking about it everything was a downward spiral. Her therapist would say she was being triggered, and wouldn't be wrong, and would likely have advised her against tackling this alone, but Wanda would let herself be consumed by a demon herself before she let any more children die - and if she had intended to do it alone, well, maybe she still wanted to prove a few things to herself.</p>
<p>Her thoughts were interrupted by Kurt saying, "There's something in your hair. May I?"</p>
<p>Wanda nodded slightly and he reached out, fingers delicately brushing her hair back (was this a ploy? was he flirting with her?), coming away with a bloodred moth perched on his knuckles. It slowly fluttered its wings, showing off its darker eye spots, but didn't startle away.</p>
<p>"You're more irresistible than the light, it seems," he said, eyes catching hers, and yes, this time he was definitely flirting with her.</p>
<p>"Ha," Wanda let out a breath and rolled her eyes. "It's a butcher's moth, they're attracted to magic. And a particularly nasty breed of demon."</p>
<p>"Makes sense, but there's only one...you said the church was full of demonic energy, but I didn't see any when we were inside."</p>
<p>"I could be wrong about the demon, but I doubt it," replied Wanda, taking a sip of her coffee; even cold it was good, with just a hint of spiciness. "And the moths would congregate wherever the demon is, like crows to carrion. If it's in the church then it will be somewhere out of the way, like a choir room or storage space. Once we're inside I can lead us right to it."</p>
<hr/>
<p>"I have a bad feeling about this..." said Kurt, fidgeting with his coat, the visible tip of his tail flicking with anticipation and unease.</p>
<p>They stood on a street corner, beneath a burned-our street lamp, watching the chapel through a haze of snow. The rain had turned as night fell, the temperature dropping below freezing, the streets becoming slushy and glazed with white. The bitter cold pierced through Wanda's cape, chilling her down to bone and raising gooseflesh along every bit of bare skin.</p>
<p>"Don't tell me you're nervous?" she asked, one eyebrow quirked.</p>
<p>"Nein. It's not that." The falling snow muffled their voices. "It's not even October, doesn't this feel unnatural to you?" </p>
<p>He was right. The snow fell in heavy flakes that clung to Wanda's cape and hair, and if Kurt tipped his hat he'd cause an avalanche. This much snow<em> was</em> unseasonable...but it didn't smack of demoncraft.</p>
<p>"I think you're imagining things," Wanda said, then, "look." She gestured to the chapel, where father Cornelius was locking up the doors, his back to them. "Is that normal?"</p>
<p>"The church doesn't have a rectory, so he must live somewhere else." He scanned the street, eyes luminescent in the dark. His mouth twisted. "Or perhaps he;s going to go catch children and feed them to a demon."</p>
<p>"Doesn't it bother you, demons feeding from a Catholic church, preying on children in the congregation? Knowing a priest could be involved?"</p>
<p>"Of course it bothers me, knowing that something that should be holy can be so twisted, and that someone put in such a position of power to help could instead be using that gift to hurt. It is the same with all forms of power, including yours and mine, but while God is always just and immutable the clergy of His church are only people, subject to temptations and evil as much as anyone is."</p>
<p>Wanda swallowed the lump of nervousness forming in her throat and watched Cornelius walk away from them, frail shoulders hunched against the cold. She didn't like that man, but she couldn't say for sure if he was in league with darker forces than mutant bigotry.</p>
<p>"I think we can go now," Kurt said, and an instant later they were inside the church beside the doors, looking down the long isle to the altar. The candles were still lit, everything virtually the same as it had been when they left just a few hours earlier, but it felt to Wanda that something had shifted. Maybe it was nightfall, or the press of snow against the stained glass windows, but something about the long wavering shadows cast by the candles felt sinister.</p>
<p>"What are your spidey sense telling you?" whispered Kurt; his hat was off again, that was some sort of Catholic thing, not wearing hats in churches.</p>
<p>"This way," she replied, setting off towards the nave. He followed, crossing himself with holy water as they passed the font and shrugging when Wanda raised an eyebrow. As they wove among pews it occurred to her that Cornelius may not be the only priest tending to the church, but it was too late to turn back now. She stopped before a recessed door. "What's in here?"</p>
<p>"A basement? Maybe a crypt?"</p>
<p>"Only one way to find out, I suppose." Gently she pushed the door open, startling back as a swarm of bloodred moths burst our. Hundreds - maybe thousands - of papery wings battered against her face, swirling around them in a crimson cloud.</p>
<p>"That's norma;," said Kurt, deadpan, as the cloud of moths dissipated and they stepped into a dark stairwell.</p>
<p>"The swarm is a little concerning," replied Wanda, summoning a palm full of light with a spell, illuminated the cramped stone walls of the stairwell, the steps leading down into blackness flowered with lichen and rot that squished under her shoes. <em>Ugh</em>. "The bigger the swarm, the bigger the demon..."</p>
<p>She trailed off as they came to the bottom of the stairs and her light suddenly flared into fiery brilliance, casting the crypt in a reddish glow. A dozen stone coffins stood in rows, their lids carved to look like sleeping angels, their peaceful expressions at odds with the revolting creature squatting among them. A creature from the darkest regions of chaos, folds of leathery red skin, six limbs covered in thorny spikes, bulbous eyes that flared black at their centers. The demon.</p>
<p>"And Cornelius thought<em> I</em> look scary?" said Kurt, aghast. "I'm offended."</p>
<p>The demon's fiery eyes lit on them and it roared, clambering to its feet and seeming to swell even larger for a moment as a writhing mass of smaller demons crawled over its body like hatchling spiders riding on their mother's back. There had to be at least a dozen of them. The same number as the missing children...</p>
<p>"It's a demon brood," gasped Wanda, "the demon's turned all the stolen children into spawn."</p>
<p>Kurt's eyes widened. "Can you turn them back?"</p>
<p>"I...I think so."</p>
<p>The mass of demon spawn swarmed towards them and Wanda held them back with a scarlet shield of light, but that wouldn't be quite as effective against the big one, which opened a maw full of pointed yellow teeth and charged like an enraged bear.</p>
<p>Kurt tossed his coat to the side and withdrew, of all things, a sword. "What do you need me to do?"</p>
<p>The big demon crashed into Wanda's shield and it splintered like ice, hairline fractures spreading dangerously. She couldn't hold it and work the spells she needed to turn the demon spawn back into children. "Buy me some time."</p>
<p>Just as she said the words her shield shattered and the spawn flooded towards her; she didn't want to hurt them but she had to keep her hands free so any that came close were knocked back by very small hex bolts.</p>
<p>Kurt leaped into the fray without a moments hesitation, moving so quickly that he always seemed to be in two places at once, using his sword to keep the big demon at bay and playing a very intense game of keep-away with the spawn, teleporting them away from Wanda again and again.</p>
<p>"Cover me!" She shouted as the spell got to intense for her to use hex bolts.</p>
<p>"Already on it!" He intercepted two spawn and 'ported them away, there and then gone in a puff of purplish smoke. But six more where on her faster than either of them could deflect, shoving her back against the wall, her head jarring against stone. Her vision splintered for a moment, the spells she'd been weaving coming apart. She would have to start over.</p>
<p><em>BAMF.</em> Kurt pulled her to her feet and teleported them to the mouth of the stairwell, easily the most defensible spot in the crypt. The large demon followed them, crashing face-first into the walls protecting the steps, too big to fit through. But the spawn would be held off so easily.</p>
<p>"Whatever you're going to do," said Kurt, putting himself between the horde and Wanda, "do it quickly!"</p>
<p>The breath had been knocked out of Wanda when she hit the wall, her spells dashed to pieces, but now that she'd caught her breath everything seemed clearer. Sharpened into focus by raw adrenaline. She could destroy the demon and save the children at the same time...</p>
<p>Swiftly, she wove a spoken charm with an archaic spell, a complex harmony of light and sound that might just put everything back to rights...</p>
<p>The last thing she saw was the flash of a sword being buried in the big demon's eye before everything vanished in a blinding flood of scarlet light.</p>
<hr/>
<p>A posse of wailing fire engines and police cars arrived to find the church in flames, a dozen small children crying on the steps, and two mutants attempting tp soothe them. The fire had spread from the ashes of the demon as Kurt teleported all the children outside, consuming the crypt and leaping up the stairs to devour the chapel. The fire engines wouldn't be able to save the church, but at least the fire hadn't spread to any surrounding buildings. Wanda felt some sense of grim satisfaction in watching it burn, searing orange flames blotting out the stars and warming her face.</p>
<p>"Do you think they'll be okay?" Kurt asked, coming to stand beside her as paramedics began corralling children and swaddling them in electric blankets. Their parents and guardians had already been contacted; they would be arriving any minute now. "Being turned into demon spawn must be traumatic."</p>
<p>"I put a spell of forgetting on them," admitted Wanda, "this will all be a very distant memory by tomorrow."</p>
<p>She wasn't looking at the children, only the burning church, but she could hear their small voices and whimpers over the crackling flames, one of them sobbing <em>Mamma!...Mamma!</em> It made her heart ache, but she told herself the prickling in her eyes was caused by the acrid black smoke coming off the fire. She'd walked through a nightmare tonight and she was still in one piece. The children were safe. All the children were safe now. She wouldn't let herself dwell on anything else.</p>
<p>"What about you?"</p>
<p>She blinked, his question taking a moment to register, his voice had been so soft. Maybe he hadn't meant to say anything.</p>
<p>He cleared his throat. "You got hit pretty hard in there, is what I meant. You should probably let someone take a look at you."</p>
<p>"I'll be just fine." Wanda touched the back of her head, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. She'd completely forgotten the throbbing pain in the back of her skull, but she'd suffered far worse than this. She probably didn't even have a concussion, but then, she knew he hadn't really been asking about her head. "Time heals all wounds, right?"</p>
<p>But that wasn't true. Some wounds needed more than time to heal; some wounds you lived with for a lifetime.</p>
<p>But she <em>would</em> be alright.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It is imperfect but it is all I have.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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